That's All I Ask Princess
by MustLoveMustyPages
Summary: Clarke Griffin is the daughter of a famous scientist. She's quite the humanitarian and is involved in a lot of charities. This leads to the need for a personal security guard. Enter Bellamy Blake. Bellamy has grown up seeing Clarke Griffin on the cover of every magazine known to man, but he realizes that he may have misjudged his employer before ever meeting her. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Bellamy Blake thought he knew Clarke Griffin. After all, her face made one of the national newspapers or magazines at least once a week. Once she hit high school age that number jumped from one to five. Her father was a world-renowned scientist. It was usually only the children of actors or singers who made the news, but Clarke Griffin was the exception.

From a young age she graced the covers of national periodicals showing her attending her father's conferences or various other public speaking events. When she was a teenager she was interviewed by magazines that discussed clothing and boys and what clothes to wear to attract boys (Bellamy only knew this because his sister Octavia was a religious reader of said magazines, not matter how much he tried to persuade her).

Now, as an adult Bellamy most frequently saw her on the covers of gossip magazines. The debates were endless on everything from her love life (bisexual and currently single) to what she ate for breakfast (she was a vegetarian so mostly eggs) to the endless causes and charities she seemed to support (art, public education and animal cruelty were at the top of what was a very long list). Bellamy hated himself for knowing all of that. He blamed his sister who without fail always seemed to have a copy of some new trashy copy tucked under her arm.

To make matters worse, he had just been assigned to be her body guard for a big charity event that Clarke Griffin was hosting at her house. Bellamy had just started in the private security six months ago after a stressful and very underpaying job in the public sector. He had quickly become a favorite because of his young age and ability to blend in. Plus, he was darn good at his job and had an amazing track record. It had only been a matter of time before he was being hired out to celebrities, at least according to his boss.

And really, Bellamy Blake wouldn't have minded, if it had been anyone other than her. He was so sick of seeing her face practically everywhere he looked these days. There was such thing as over exposure, at least in his opinion, and Clarke Griffin was one of the most recognizable faces in America.

Her popularity also made her a huge target and thus the need for a security guard. Apparently she refused to have one on a day-to-day basis, which Bellamy thought was insane, not that anyone was asking him. After one very close encounter with a deranged stalker at her last event though, she had been persuaded to hire a guard for her big outings.

He was to report to the Griffin house at 6:00 AM sharp the next morning so he was going to bed early to make sure he was fully rested. Just as he was sleeping in between the sheets his phone buzzed to alert him that he had a new text message. Unlocking his phone, he had seen a new text from his boss. It had read "Change of plans. Report to this address instead" and then proceeded to list a new address in the downtown part of the city, actually not that far from where he lived. Although he was curious about the change, he didn't press the issue, instead figuring that he would find out everything he needed to know the following day.

It actually worked out in his favor with the change in address. The Griffin house was in an entirely different part of town that would be a good twenty or thirty minute drive depending on traffic. With the new address he was able to get there in under five and therefore relish a few extra minutes with a cup of coffee in his kitchen before leaving.

Still, when he got to the address sent to him the previous night, he was more than a little concerned that there had been a mix-up. The apartment building that he was standing outside was old and crumbling, not exactly falling down, but definitely not a place where a high society girl like Clarke Griffin would be hanging out. The only possible reason Bellamy could come up with as he rang the doorbell and was buzzed in a few minutes later was that perhaps was roughing it with a new boyfriend, trying to live on the wild side for a week or two before returning to her prim and proper existence.

So when Bellamy knocked on the door, he fully expected to hear a male voice calling back to him from the other side. What he did not expect was for the door to fly open and for a frazzled, bleary-eyed Clarke Griffin to be standing there still in her pajama bottoms. "I'm sorry… I'm late! I'm late!" she muttered, ushering Bellamy in and closing the door behind him.

When Bellamy turned around to face his client, she was nowhere to be seen and he instantly panicked. Then a second later when there was a thud and an "I'm okay!" shouted from one of the bedrooms, he was able to relax just a smidge. He took a moment to look at the apartment. It was not much different from his own, scarcely furnished with just the necessities, although this one had a lot more artwork on the walls and more overall color than his own. Bellamy considered taking a seat on the couch, but decided instead to move towards the kitchen where he smelled a pot of coffee brewing and a sizzling noise on the stove.

Almost as if reading his mind, Clarke called from the bedroom, "Help yourself to some coffee! I'll be out in a minute!" Despite his reservations about his client, he was not one to pass up on the caffeine. Bellamy practically lived on the stuff during college and the habit had continued over into his working life. It was not something that he was too keen to break anytime soon.

After finding two empty mugs, he poured himself and then Clarke a cup of coffee, hoping that there really wasn't a boyfriend hanging around anywhere. He really didn't want to have to deal with niceties at that early of an hour. Significant others always seemed to feel the need to tell security how to do their job, as if they would simply not protect their clients if not reminded by over-bearing boyfriends or concerned wives.

When the sizzling on the stove grew louder and Clarke still hadn't reappeared, Bellamy took a cautious step to the stove to find a pan of scrambled eggs and vegetables close to burning. He didn't even hesitate before getting a plate and shoveling the food onto it. After turning off the stove, he leaned against the counter and waited for his client with growing annoyance.

Finally a minute later she emerged, no longer in her pajamas but a pencil skirt and blouse. Her hair had been pulled back and her face was surprisingly bright and vibrant seeing as how she had looked on the edge of sleep just five minutes early when she opened the door.

Upon seeing her breakfast already on the counter, Clarke hummed in appreciation and pulled a fork hastily out of a drawer. Then she leaned against the counter across from Bellamy, plate in hand, and took a bite of her breakfast. Bellamy scooted a mug of coffee in her direction and that was when she actually took more than a second to look at him.

As if just realizing her behavior, she immediately put down her eggs and held out a hand. "Bellamy Blake, right?" Her grip was firm and her face immediately broke out into a smile that Bellamy couldn't help but match.

"Yes," he replied, before thinking over her words and frowning. "Wait… didn't you know who I was when you opened the door? I assumed you had been given a picture of me or something."

Clarke just shook her head and put her attention back on her food. With a start Bellamy realized that she was avoiding his gaze. "No, no picture. I just figured, who else could it have been?" She shrugged her shoulders and glanced back up at her security guard.

Immediately Bellamy straightened up, huffing. "So you just let a stranger in? What if I had been a criminal Miss Griffin?" When he realized that he was yelling, he lowered his voice, but kept his tone firm. She needed to know how serious he was. "Have you not been in this neighborhood before? Especially someone of your place, you should know better than to let your guard down like that."

Instead of agreeing or looking embarrassed as Bellamy had expected, Clarke was suddenly indignant. "I've been living in this neighborhood for three years! And I am careful! I knew you were coming, it was exactly 6:00, and I had a general description of your appearance to go off of."

That time it was Bellamy's turn to duck his head. "Oh, well, when you said that you hadn't seen a picture I just assumed-"

Clarke interjected right away. "You just assumed that I was being careless and an air-headed bimbo?"

Bellamy laughed at that last part, making Clarke's face turn red with anger. "Careless, yes. I would have never called you an air-headed bimbo though." As a peace offering Bellamy picked up the coffee that he had poured for her and held it out.

As Clarke sipped at the hot beverage, it suddenly hit Bellamy that he was arguing with his employer - the person paying his bills, and here he was insulting her and making her angry. Said employer took another sip of her coffee before mumbling something that Bellamy didn't quite catch. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked, trying to keep his tone polite.

Clarke lowered the mug from her mouth. "You may not have called me an air-headed bimbo out loud, but you were thinking it, weren't you?"

Bellamy frowned at that, guilt creeping up on him. Although he hadn't thought those exact words in his head, she was pretty darn close. He chose not to answer her question. Instead, he took a sip of his own coffee and turned around to take another look at the apartment. "So, do you have a friend or boyfriend that lives here or something? I was a little surprised to get the change of address last night."

Behind him, Bellamy heard a huff of annoyance, and then a clatter as Clarke set down her plate and cup. "I told them this was where I lived from the beginning when I called your company. People just never listen."

"You live here?" he asked, surprised not for the first time that day from someone he had thought he knew everything about. With his eyebrows raised, he glanced around the apartment again with a new respect. Obviously reading about someone in a magazine was not the same as knowing them in real life. "What about your parents?"

Clarke slipped past him and walked over to her couch. She plopped down on it and dug underneath until she had retrieved a pair of shiny blue heels. "I haven't lived in that house since I turned eighteen." Sensing his next question, she looked up from her task of putting on her shoes to give an annoyed glare. "The only reason I am having the event there today is because it's free and located within walking distance of the arts center." After putting on her last shoe, she carefully stood up and walked over to Bellamy.

There was a challenging look in her eyes, waiting for him to make some rich girl-poor girl comment probably. Unfortunately for her, Bellamy grew up with a sister and knew when to keep his mouth shut. It was obviously a sore subject for Clarke. With only one look around the room he had seen no pictures of her anywhere, not on a magazine or newspaper cover, not even in a picture frame. Instead what he saw was pictures of everyone else. And when he said everyone, he meant everyone.

"Did you paint all of these yourself?" Bellamy asked, and from the quick change in expression on Clarke's face he knew he had thrown her off. When she just nodded and went back into her bedroom, he called after her, "They're amazing."

When she had reemerged, she had on a simple pea coat, a canvas bag across her shoulders, and a stack of papers in her hand. "Thanks," she remarked quietly before going over to her cabinets and swinging it open. On the top shelf there was a line of thermoses and she reached up to get one. Even in the high heels though she wasn't quite tall enough to get it.

After a few seconds of struggling Bellamy came behind her and retrieved a blue one off the shelf. "Here you go Princess."

"Don't call me that," she bit back, angrily snatching the thermos away from him and moving over to fill it up with coffee.

"Why not?" When she opened her mouth to say something back, he continued. "Oh, you think I called you that because of your family's money? Believe me, if anything I've learned today it's to not judge someone before you meet them. Nah, you're a princess because you've got one heck of a temper."

Clarke eyes widened at his explanation and Bellamy could see the gears working in her head as she considered what he had said. Then she bit her lip and motioned for him to get another thermos from the shelf. When she had filled that one up to the brim and closed the lid, she handed it over to Bellamy.

Bellamy raised it to her in a silent thanks before motioning to the door. "Shall we?"

When they were outside her apartment, Clarke set down her things and locked the door. When she had gathered them all in her hands again and turned back around Bellamy held out a hand to stop her. "Before we leave though, let's just agree on one thing, okay?"

Rolling her eyes, Clarke chuckled. "And what's that Mr. Blake?"

"How about we agree that you don't open your doors to strangers anymore unless it's me?"

Clarke tried to fight back a smile and lost. "I'll do my best."

"That's all I ask Princess."

* * *

 **This turned out way different than I originally intended. More fluffy and less plot definitely. I might revisit this plot bunny later, but I also may not.**

 **AU obviously.**

 **Let me know what you think! There was minimal editing and no beta on this. I simply wrote it, did a spell check, and posted it.**


	2. Chapter 2

Originally the plan was to take Clarke's car to the event; however, after seeing the atrocity Bellamy hadn't adamantly refused to even sit inside. It would be putting it politely to call Clarke's car a piece of junk. It was a box of rust balanced precariously on a set of worn-out tires that looked like they had been made fifty years ago. Clarke's argument that she had "gotten a great deal" did nothing to reassure Bellamy that it was capable of getting them to their destination in one piece.

So it was with a sigh of defeat that Clarke got into the passenger side of Bellamy's car, which was by no means a showpiece itself. At least it was made in the last decade though. And at least it started more than fifty-percent of the time, which Bellamy learned much to his horror, Clarke wasn't able to say about her own car.

Aside from Clarke's initial refusal in the beginning about the car situation, she actually wasn't a terrible companion. In between reviewing her notes during the drive, she politely asked about his family (one sister Octavia who lived with him in the city), why he chose to be in security (he needed to pay off his student loans and it turned out he was actually good at it), and where he saw himself in five years (alive and doing whatever felt right at the time).

Any attempt at getting Clarke to share personal facts was met with a cordial but swiftly-deflecting response. It wasn't that Bellamy didn't already know practically Clarke's entire life story, but he had learned his lesson earlier in just assuming things. She was definitely not what he had expected when being first given the job.

After a few minutes he got the hint though and didn't try to ask her any more questions, instead just letting her study in papers in silence. After all, he wasn't being paid to socialize. He had effectively protected plenty of people in the past six months without having spoken a word to them. Clarke was different though. Not rich and snobby like most, and so he found himself actually wanting to talk to her. Every time he had asked her a question though, her posture not-so-subtly stiffened.

Being still quite early, they got through traffic with no problem and arrived at the Griffin house just a few minutes before 7:00. Bellamy had never been there himself, having just passed by occasionally when he was leaving town on a trip or for business. So he had never looked too closely at the place.

He was slightly surprised then to see a gate and security system in place. He was even more surprised when Clarke unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over his lap to speak into the machine. "Hello, this is Clarke Griffin. Could you please buzz me in?" There was a moment of silence and then a faint buzzing sound as the gates unlocked and swung open. "Thank you." Then she crawled back over to her seat, slightly flushed. She turned to Bellamy with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I'm usually in the driver's seat and it's cold outside."

Bellamy cracked a grin at her explanation. "No problem." As the gates stilled, open wide for their passage, he put the car back into drive and pulled through. Passing a cluster of trees, the full expanse of the house came into view. He whistled appreciatively. "Wow."

"I know," Clarke said, and something in her voice made Bellamy tilt his head to look at her. She was staring up at the building not as one would expect with a childhood home. Instead what he saw was a thinly veiled look of disgust. Catching his eye, she quickly schooled her features and attempted a smile. "A castle fit for princess, huh?" she asked sarcastically, reshuffling the papers in her lap.

He thought about the direction of his response for only a moment. As they reached the front of the house, Bellamy leaned over to whisper in Clarke's ear. "I don't know. It seems a little plain to me." At that moment a man dressed in a suit came down the front steps to the passenger side of the car. "Shouldn't there be a moat or something?"

Just as the man opened her door, Clarke let out a well-timed snort and burst into a fit of laughter. Bellamy hadn't thought his joke was that funny, but maybe Clarke just needed a good laugh.

The man, a butler or valet or something, smiled pleasantly at Clarke. "Oh, Fred! How are you?" she cried happily, just then spotting him and leaping out of the car to give him a hug. Although startled at first, he soon wrapped his arms around her as well.

When he stepped back, he tssked slightly at Clarke's now disheveled clothes. With a quick side eye at the house, Fred the valet/butler quickly patted them flat. As Bellamy stepped out of the car, he saw Fred lean discreetly towards Clarke and whisper something. Immediately she stopped laughing and the smile dropped from her face. Although already fixed, she ran her hands down the front of her clothes to smooth out the imaginary wrinkles again.

Clarke was gathering her things from the passenger seat when Bellamy had made his way to the other side of the car. "Fred, this is Bellamy Blake, my personal security guard for the day." Her tone had suddenly grown formal and entirely unlike her. Or at least unlike anything he had heard come out of Clarke's mouth since he had met her that morning. Bellamy just nodded at Fred, keeping an eye on Clarke in concern. She kept glancing up at the house as if it was going to spontaneously combust.

After giving Fred the keys to his car and thanking him, they began the climb up the steep steps to the front door. "Is everything alright?" Bellamy asked when he knew they were out of earshot. When Clarke didn't respond, he tugged on her arm to get her to stop. "Clarke, if something has happened, I need to know-"

"It is nothing concerning security," she muttered back shortly, wrenching her arm from his grasp. A flicker of apprehension crossed her features and she closed her eyes. When she had opened them again, her gaze was steeled. Bellamy recognized the look well. It was the face for the press, one that he had seen countless others put on before. He'd thought that Clarke was different than the others when he saw her apartment, but he supposed everyone had to have a façade when under so much public scrutiny. Why she needed it at her own house though when none of the press had arrived yet was beyond him.

"If something is bothering you then-" he started, only to be cut off again.

"It's nothing." Clarke let out a sigh so quiet Bellamy was almost sure he had imagined it, then said, "My parents are back home."

Bellamy had nothing to say to that. He had been prepared for a number of excuses about her change in mood. However, having her parents be home was not one of them. Before he could say anything else the front door was opening and there was Abigail Griffin there to greet them. "Hi mom," Clarke said with, it seemed, as much fake gusto as she could muster. If her mother didn't flinch at the poor attempt, Bellamy did it for her.

"Clarke, it's lovely to see you," Abigail Griffin replied with a stilted smile as she ran her eagle eyes over Bellamy. He swallowed thickly at the awkwardness of it all and reached out a hand to introduce himself. When Abigail Griffin didn't take it, Clarke coughed and pushed into the house, leaving both Bellamy and her mother at the door.

When all three were inside with the door closed, Clarke turned to her mother. "Mom, this is Bellamy Blake. He is my personal security guard for the day." If Clarke's tone had turned formal with Fred outside, her voice now was downright cold.

"Oh!" the elder Griffin exclaimed, reaching out for Bellamy's hand. The same one that he had offered earlier. "It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Blake. Although, if I had known you would be needing security Clarke, I could have certainly gotten someone from our usual company for the day. You know how we like to keep all of our hires… in-house."

Clarke ignored her mother's obvious dig. "Is Dad in his room?" she asked, not waiting for a response and already heading down the hallway. Bellamy followed close behind, flashing Abigail Griffin what he hoped was a neutral acknowledgement. When they reached a closed door towards the end, Clarke halted and spun around to face Bellamy. "I will be just a few minutes," she said, glancing back at the door. "Would you want to look around the house at your own pace? Get a feel for things?"

When Bellamy agreed, Clarke seemed relieved, as if she was worried it was going to take more effort to get rid of him. "Great!" she exclaimed, although her voice was far from happy. "I will come find you when I'm done and show you the rooms where everything is going to be held. Sound good?"

She directed Bellamy back the way they had come and explained how to get upstairs. When Bellamy reached the end of the hall, he looked over his shoulder expecting Clarke to have already gone. Instead, he found her still standing outside the room. He could visibly see her hands shaking and for a moment considered saying something. But then he heard her take a deep breath and reach for the door handle.

Bellamy waited until she had gone in before leaving the hallway and not for the first time that day he was reminded that not everything was what it appeared to be with Clarke Griffin.

* * *

 **Like the last time... written and posted with little to no revision. I think after I finish I will do a sweep through to clean everything up.**

 **I really wasn't planning on continuing this, but did throw that out there on the first chapter to see what everyone else thought. Urgh. And then five minutes after the first review I started back in on this again. I already have a few unfinished fics (including a 100 fic from way back in Dec/Jan that I still get notifications on... *sigh* Basically I suck.)**

 **So let me know what you think and I will try my best to keep on writing and finish!**

 **(And I am going to try to end each chapter with some sort of conclusion just in case this doesn't get finished you all will be remotely satisfied and not hate me! So it will be like a series of one-shots that are actually connected together... so not a series of one-shots really...)**


	3. Chapter 3

Although the house was quite large, larger than any reasonable home for three people needed to be, it really didn't take Bellamy that long to make the rounds. He started on the first floor, walking through the multiple sitting rooms, ballrooms, kitchens, and dining areas. Then he found the stairs that would lead him to the second floor of the house and quickly scoped out the rooms.

He had expected when he started his tour to encounter a lot of other people, but he saw no one other than the occasional security guard who nodded their head in acknowledgement. It was probably due to it being so early in the morning; however, growing up Bellamy couldn't remember a time at home that there wasn't at least one other person within talking distance in, no matter the hour. As he passed through each extravagant, but nonetheless empty room, Bellamy imagined how lonely it must have been a child in the place.

After going through the third floor which was comprised of much more of the same, Bellamy made his way back downstairs. Clarke still hadn't come to get him as agreed, so he found the hall that they had gone down before and stood outside the door at the end. After a few minutes of not seeing any sign that Clarke would be out soon, he knocked quietly.

At that, there was a rustling noise inside and what sounded like a loud, hacking cough. Then a voice called out, "Who is it?"

Bellamy froze, not recognizing the voice as Clarke's or anyone else's for that matter and wondered if he should have just waited longer. He was busy chiding himself and debating what to do when the door swung open, and Clarke appeared in the opening.

The first thing that Bellamy noticed was her red eyes. The second was the fact that her cheeks were splotchy and covered in fresh tears.

Upon seeing Bellamy, her eyes widened and she turned her head away, using her sleeve to wipe at her face. Once she had composed herself, she turned back, but still didn't say anything. "I'm sorry," Bellamy said softly, trying not to be too obvious about having seen her crying. "When you hadn't come found me yet I came back here and-"

"No, no-" Clarke interrupted and if it had been a different time or place Bellamy would have dwelled more on the fact that Clarke seemed to always be cutting him off. In fact, half of their conversations so far had been comprised of him trying to speak and her interjecting before he could finish. As it were though, while Bellamy had been musing on Clarke's particularly annoying habit, she had carried on talking. "Really, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention to the time and should have come sooner." She flicked her eyes back into the room and pulled the door closed a little more. "Just give me another minute and I'll be right out-"

This time it was Clarke who was being cut off, from someone inside the room. Bellamy could barely make out the words, but they caused Clarke to grimace and look at Bellamy hesitantly. There were more words at her hesitation, followed by a loud coughing fit.

Without another glance, Clarke opened the door wide and gestured for Bellamy to enter. He paused after stepping inside, having seen the source of the talking and coughing. There laying down on a large bed, tucked under a mountain of blankets, was Dr. Jake Griffin. Clarke's father.

Even at a distance he could tell that the man wasn't well. He looked unhealthily thin and his skin was slick with sweat. Bellamy had heard rumors that the famous scientist was sick, but those were located in the same types of periodicals claiming that aliens were real and 9/11 was just a hoax, so he hadn't given the accusations much thought.

Jake Griffin was actually sick though, and if the tall stacks of books and wrinkled magazines piled by his IV drip were any indicator, he had been sick for a while.

At that moment in time, the man's eyes were closed and Bellamy swiveled around to see Clarke still standing by the door. The expression on her face was nothing like the one she had used on the steps outside her house, withdrawn, cold and otherwise emotionless. In the few seconds he had been watching her, Bellamy saw a wave of emotions pass over her face. Love. Sadness. Concern. Desperation. All so strong and overwhelming that Bellamy had to look away at the pain encompassing them all.

Clarke chose then to walk back over to her father's bedside and sit down in the chair that had been dragged up right beside it. She carefully took her father's right hand in her own, which was starkly pale and colorless in comparison. The touch caused Jake Griffin to open his eyes. Bellamy took a step closer, expecting the doctor's eyes to be cloudy and unfocused. Instead they were sharp and alert, moving to Bellamy instantly.

"Dad," Clarke said, her gaze not leaving her father, "This is Bellamy Blake who I was telling you about earlier."

"Ah, so you're the man that is going to be protecting my daughter?" He said it in such a serious tone that Bellamy at first didn't know how react. His first thought was that he shouldn't be there. These jobs were supposed to be in-and-out. No further attachments than necessary for the day. But here was a dying man looking to him to protect his daughter. It was serious stuff and Bellamy felt in over his head.

Then the older Griffin laughed. It was a heart-wrenching laugh tinged with coughs and gasps of breath, but a laugh nonetheless. It loosened something inside Bellamy and he smiled. A smile which widened even further at seeing that the laughter had caused Clarke to smile as well.

She was positively beaming at her father, laughing along at what Bellamy quickly realized was himself. "Oh the look on your face…" Jake Griffin chuckled. Bellamy hadn't realized that he had been making a face, but with what he had been feeling at the time (which was bordering on absolute terror), he wasn't very surprised.

"Okay Dad," Clarke said, patting his hand and laughing again, "We've got to get going so I can get everything set up for the event." She let her father's hand go and stood up. Placing a kiss on his forehead, she muttered "love you" and made her way around the bed.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Griffin," Bellamy said, giving a small wave with his hand. Then on a more serious note added, "I really will do my best to protect your daughter today sir."

Dr. Griffin didn't respond right away, and Bellamy thought that he might not have heard him, or he had fallen back to sleep. But then his voice came through loud and clear. "I know you will son." That was it. That was all that needed to be said.

When Bellamy turned to leave the room, he saw that Clarke had been listening. Part of him had only said what he had said because he had thought Clarke had left the room, but then another part of him, the more honest part in truth, argued that he would said that whether Clarke Griffin was listening or not.

Still, with Clarke's eyes on him, shining from unshed tears, Bellamy knew that he was making a longer-lasting promise than he had with others. He didn't know how or why he knew, he just did.

When they left Dr. Griffin's room, neither addressed what had been Clarke had overheard. She did address what he had seen though, when she simply said, "Leukemia. Two months."

"I'm sorry." And he was. How could he not be with what he knew about Dr. Griffin? He was not just a scientist, but a savior, having saved thousands of lives with his research. After meeting the man though, Bellamy wasn't just sorry for what would be the loss of a great doctor though, but for the man himself too.

Clarke just nodded in acceptance and made a final sweep at her face. She looked down the hallway and exhaled once before she began walking away. "Here, let me show you where the event is going to take place.

* * *

 **So currently I'm trying to figure out how long I want to make this. I'm thinking just a few more chapters. I didn't plan on this being anything more than a one-shot, so I don't want to drag it out too much. Plus, the more chapters I have, the more editing I will have to do when I go back through. So really I'm just being efficient.**

 **Big thanks and lots of virtual hugs for all of the wonderful responses that I've gotten for this story so far. I love the 100 community. You guys rock.**

 **Feedback appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

Two hours later and Bellamy had become thoroughly acquainted with the staff running Clarke's charity event. "Ark Memorial's Art Foundation" was the name she gave when Bellamy asked. She had said it with the pride of a mother hen who wasn't allowed to brag about her child nearly enough. Bellamy soon discovered that not only was Clarke the founder, but she had essentially taken it from its infancy three years ago, to a million dollar (and rising) charity that was working to bring back art and music classes to all of the local schools in the city.

Bellamy had heard a lot of things about the younger Miss Griffin, from her relationship status to her fashion choices, but somehow those in-depth exposes had failed to mention what appeared to be the single most important thing in Clarke's life.

As he watched her greet the crew that was setting up the seating for the event, Bellamy could see the passion in her eyes. Even the smallest of details were filled with considerable thought, such as insisting that the children's artwork was not pushed aside and placed front and center, and voicing her desire to place the podium on floor level so that she wouldn't be towering so much over the audience.

Although, Bellamy did feel the need to interject to that last request. "For security purposes, it would be better if you had a raised platform," he explained. "Less accessible to the audience…" He could see in the frown on her face that that was exactly what she was worried about, before adding, "and less accessible to potential threats." Clarke's frown softened slightly at his reasoning, and he could tell that she was mulling over what he said. As soon as another option popped into his head, he voiced it, "Maybe you could invite some children up onto the stage with you. We can clear them beforehand and that way you'll still be connecting to the audience, but in a safer manner."

Clarke's eyes brightened at the idea and her face broke into a huge smile. Within a minute Bellamy was handed a guest list so that he could work on filtering through potential candidates.

There was going to be a few hundred people in attendance, all packed into the larger of two ballrooms located on the first floor of the Griffin house. They were going to be a diverse bunch. Children would be mixed with adults. Public school teachers would be mixed with corporate businessmen. It was definitely not the usual make-up of guests invited to a Griffin affair. At least, that's what Bellamy presumed from the glaring looks Abigail Griffin kept shooting off as the first guests arrived and began to take their seats.

Clarke was off to the side of the podium, chatting with a few people, when Bellamy walked up to go over the final details. He waited for a minute until there was a break in the conversation, and politely interjected. "Clarke-" A dark haired woman's eyebrows shot up at his use of her first name and he quickly corrected himself. "I mean, Miss Griffin, could I borrow you for a moment?"

None the wiser to his correction, Clarke nodded. "Bellamy! Here, let me first introduce you! These are my friends Monty Green and Jasper Jordan," she said, pointing to the two guys. Bellamy reached forward to shake their hands. "They are both high school science teachers." Then she turned to the dark-haired woman. "And this is my best friend Raven Reyes. She teaches Industrial Technology part-time and works for my foundation when she's not teaching."

Bellamy went to shake Raven's hand as well, but she pointedly ignored it. Unlike with Abigail Griffin though, he didn't take any offense. Raven seemed more intrigued than anything as she crossed her arms over chest and squinted up at him. "Bellamy, huh? What exactly is it that you do for our friend Clarke here?" She looked over at Clarke speculatively and in a matter of seconds the two had what appeared to be an uncomfortable conversation using just their eyes. Well, uncomfortable for Clarke at least, who was blushing furiously. Raven just looked smug and clapped Bellamy on the back. "Nice to meet you Bellamy. I'm sure you have a lot to discuss with Clarke," she smirked, leading a confused Monty and Jasper away to take their seats.

An equally confused Bellamy turned back to Clarke, who was avoiding his gaze. "What was that about?"

"Hmm?" Clarke asked distractedly, before focusing on Raven's retreating figure. "Oh, nothing! So what did you talk to me about?"

Bellamy took her distraction in stride and pushed it out of his mind. "Right, I wanted to go over the final plan one more time before we…"

He was interrupted by a loud gun shot that pierced the air. Instinctively Bellamy pushed Clarke down onto the ground, covering her body with his own, just as the sound of a bullet went whooshing past their heads. There was crack as it hit the wall behind them, and then the regular security hired at the Griffin house burst into action, calling everyone to get down.

Whispering at Clarke to stay still, Bellamy risked peaking his head up and scanned the crowd. He instantly saw the shooter who was running across the back of the room, chased by two security guards, one male and one female. The male guard circled around the chairs to cut the shooter off, but the female kept to a straight path, gaining on the shooter and eventually tackling him down in one leap.

"Come on," Bellamy said, once he saw the shooter had been apprehended. He pulled Clarke to her feet and quickly ushered her out of the room into a large coat closet. After digging through the rack to make sure they were alone, Bellamy let go of Clarke's arm only to grasp her face instead. "Are you okay?"

When he saw the tears streaming down her face, Bellamy was positive that she had been shot. He let out a strangled grunt and began looking over her body, only for Clarke to stop him. "I'm fine. No. No. I'm fine Bellamy, really." She hadn't stopped crying though, which didn't really convince her private security guard. She met his eyes though and he could see that she was telling the truth. Her gaze turned desperate then. "Can you just have someone go check on my father?"

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Bellamy would have laughed. Here was someone who had just been shot at, and instead of worrying about her own safety, she was concerned about somebody else's.

"Of course," Bellamy replied, opening the closet door and looking for anybody else from the security team. Thankfully, one had seen him pull Clarke into the coat closet and was waiting just outside with a worried expression. "She's fine," he told the guard. "But can you have someone check on Dr. Griffin?"

When he turned back around, Clarke was right behind him, trying to get out. "Oh no you don't," Bellamy mumbled, pushing her back inside.

* * *

 **Wow. It's been awhile. My bad. School has started up again and things are little hectic. It's not that I don't have time to write exactly, more that when I do start to write, I get so wrapped up in what I'm doing that I ignore my schoolwork. Not good.**

 **I'm going to try and update this story a little more often though. There are only going to be a few more chapters left, so it shouldn't be too time consuming. And then there is that matter of my other fics that I've kind-of-sort-of abandoned. *Sigh***

 **Anyways, thanks for all of the positive feedback with this story! I hope you enjoyed the latest update. Let me know by following, favoriting and commenting!**


	5. Chapter 5

Bellamy didn't keep Clarke in the closet for long, just until everything was cleared by security. However, from the way she was pacing back in forth in the small space, one would think it had been hours.

When she was finally freed, Clarke practically burst from the closet. By then, the room had mostly emptied of guests, except for a few stragglers. Clarke sighed in frustration. "I can't believe after all of that work, _this_ is what I have to show for it. This… this empty room!" she muttered angrily.

Before Bellamy could offer any comfort she stormed off towards Raven, who was sitting in the back row of chairs talking rapidly on her phone. Seeing Clarke she jumped up and yanked her in for a hug. Even from the front of the room, Bellamy could hear Clarke's friend fuming about the disintegration of society and crazy people who thought violence solved everything. On any other day, he probably would have been annoyed at the babble, but it seemed to be taking Clarke's mind off the failed event.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy saw a security guard talking to Abigail Griffin. When he'd finished, he made his way over to Bellamy.

"So what do we know so far?" Bellamy asked, trying to keep up the pretense of patience when all he really wanted to do was find the shooter and wring his neck.

The security guard must have sensed some of his tension still, because he got straight to the point. "It turns out one of the entrances to the house was not being properly monitored. That was how the shooter was able to get in without notice." Even before Bellamy could comment, the guard rushed to add, "Don't worry. Those parties responsible for the breach have already been taken care of."

"Do you know who the shooter was, or why he did it?"

The guard pulled out a pad of paper where he had taken down some notes, and handed it over to Bellamy. 'Commander Shumway' was written at the top. The guard then shrugged his shoulders saying, "I suppose we can never be certain why he did it, since these types aren't the most trustworthy witnesses. Still, from what we gathered, Shumway somehow got ahold of a copy of the guest list."

Bellamy sucked in a breath. "So he wasn't aiming for the Griffins." Knowing that Clarke and her family weren't the actual targets relieved some of the tension in his chest.

"That's what we're thinking," the guard agreed. "The cops came a few minutes ago, and the two guards that gave chase went back to the sheriff's office as witnesses."

Thinking back over the how's of the shooting, Bellamy's eyebrows shot up. "Wait!" He flinched at how loud his voice had gotten, drawing attention from Clarke who looked over at him for a moment. Bellamy lowered his voice several notches before continuing. "You said that Shumway got the guest list somehow. Are we think someone on the staff was responsible?"

"No." The guard hesitated before continuing. "Originally the guest list was supposed to be kept under wraps for security purposes. A day ago, though, Mrs. Griffin released some of the names to the public in an effort to promote the event."

The guard said the last bit in poorly veiled contempt, and Bellamy's opinion of Clarke's mother took a nosedive. He hadn't thought he could dislike the woman any more. Being cautious about what he said next while the woman was still in the room though, Bellamy simply thanked the guard, gave him his number, and asked him to let him know if he heard any further updates.

Although technically he wasn't needed anymore since the event was canceled, Bellamy knew he couldn't leave yet. Raven and Clarke were still talking in the back, so he made his way slowly over to them.

When Raven saw Bellamy, he didn't know what her reaction to him would be. Then before he knew it, she was giving him a hug quite similar to the one he had seen her give Clarke earlier. Her mouth lingered by his ear for a split second as she whispered a soft "thanks," and they separated. She looked Bellamy up and down once again and grinned wickedly at Clarke. "Alright, maybe he's not so bad after all."

Clarke rolled her eyes at Raven. To Bellamy she said, "I heard about my mother releasing some of the guest list." She glanced over to her mother and disappointment flashed over her features. Seeming at a loss for what to do, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at him.

"Who told you?" Bellamy asked, somewhat surprised. He hadn't let her out of his sight since she left the closet, and the only person he'd seen her talking to was Raven.

Clarke jabbed a thumb at her friend. A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Raven has some connections with the cops." When Raven tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and stared down at her feet, Clarke's mouth transformed into a full blown smile. "Do you know Wick?" she asked him.

After registering the name, Bellamy turned to Raven in surprise. "Oh," he said, smirking, "you're HER!"

"Her?" The brunette's face scrunched in a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

Bellamy nodded, finding that despite the less than optimal circumstances of the day, he could still find humor in something. "Man, this is great. I never thought I'd meet the girl that Wick has been going on and on about." Both Clarke and Raven looked confused at that. "Wick and I are friends from high school," Bellamy explained. "We get drinks once a week at Grounder's, and for the past month, he's been talking non-stop about some girl, but wouldn't say who it was." He inclined his head towards Raven. "Now I know."

The girl in question hastily went back to analyzing her shoes, a faint blush creeping up on her cheeks. Clarke shoved her friend playfully. "You never told me it was getting serious. I have to meet this Wick!"

"Well, you both could always join us for drinks this week." The words were out there before he even knew what he was saying. Clarke's mouth opened in surprise, and Bellamy, realizing the implications of what he'd just offered, felt his face growing warm.

"Sounds excellent!" Raven exclaimed cheerily, clearly glad to be getting the attention off herself.

It took a few moments before Clarke spoke again, and when she did so, it was after an elbow to the side from Raven. Not looking him directly in the eye, she said softly, "Yeah, we'll be there."

Bellamy couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. As the seconds ticked on in silence after Clarke's response though, Bellamy excused himself and left the ballroom. He desperately needed to escape Raven's predatory gaze and leave behind the awkwardness that had just overcome the conversation like a tidal wave.

Right as he was leaving the ballroom, he bumped into the other people that Clarke had introduced to him earlier. Bellamy hadn't realized that they were still there, but being Clarke's friends, he wasn't surprised that they had stuck around to make sure she was okay. Actually, from the direction they were coming from, Clarke wasn't the only Griffin they were checking up on. Monty and Jasper backed up so that Bellamy could get through the door. Once he was out in the foyer he peered at the hallway behind them and asked, "How is he?"

"How's who?" Jasper asked suspiciously, his eyes flicking quickly to Monty.

"Dr. Griffin," Bellamy drawled out, not understanding his reaction.

At Bellamy's answer, Jasper's eyes looked as though they were about to pop out of his head. "Clarke told you about Jake?" His voice was incredulous, and it was then that Bellamy stopped to think that maybe he should have been surprised himself that Clarke had told him. It had seemed to be a well-kept secret and Bellamy had known the Griffins for all of a few hours. He brushed the thought away, though, because it hadn't been Clarke actually, but Dr. Griffin that had insisted on meeting him.

Ignoring the speculative looks shooting between Clarke's friends, Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I met him earlier for just a minute. I know about the leukemia." The fact that he knew not only knew about Dr. Griffin's illness, but had met also him sent the two guys over the edge.

They were speechless for a full minute until Monty spoke up. "He was our little league coach in school. Jake's the best." His voice sounded years away at that admission, no doubt wrapped up in memories.

Jasper placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and shook his head sadly. "Yeah."

Monty sighed, then seeming to shake out of his haze, looked at Bellamy. "I'm glad you got to meet him. He's a really great guy. Thankfully he slept through the whole thing. We went in just after one of the security guards and chatted with him for a bit before letting him get some rest. He asked about Clarke and we told him she was alright."

Bellamy nodded. "Good. That's good." Not really knowing what else to say at the gloomy topic that had befallen them, he glanced back into the ballroom. "I feel really bad that Clarke isn't able to have her event. She seems like she's put a lot of time and effort into this."

Monty and Jasper nodded, with Jasper speaking up. "She really has. This foundation is Clarke's life. I just wish there was some way that I could help, oh, I don't know, make this day even slightly better after the disaster it's become."

Bellamy silently agreed. Then, out of nowhere, he thought back to seeing Raven on her phone earlier, and pulled out his own cell phone. Flipping it open and scrolling through his contacts, he stopped at one particular name and grinned. With another glance to make sure no one else was around, he leaned in closer to the two guys and said quietly, "I think I have an idea."

Monty and Jasper looked at each other, smiled and then turned to Bellamy. "We're in."

* * *

 **Not edited yet, but I really wanted to get this update to you guys! I just wrote it in the last hour and was super excited. After I read over it again, I'm sure it won't be as good as I remember it, but oh well.**

 **There's probably going to be one or two more chapters to this. Thanks for sticking around so far through my inconsistent updates!**

 **Let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

"You owe me."

Bellamy's face broke out into a grin as he turned to see his sister, Octavia, entering the doors to the ballroom. After getting off the phone with her, he had been counting down the minutes until she arrived. Glancing at the big black canvas bag slung over her shoulder, he felt a flicker of relief. Bellamy knew he could count on his sister for almost anything, but this decision hadn't entirely in her control.

"How did you convince them to let you-" he started to ask, when a man appeared behind Octavia, lugging his own arsenal of bags.

Octavia noticed the man's arrival and spun around. "Lincoln, this is my brother Bellamy. Bellamy, this is Lincoln, the senior producer of Grounders' Broadcasting." Throwing a bright smile at Lincoln, she looked back to her brother. "He's who you have to thank."

Bellamy raised his eyebrows at the tall, dark-skinned man. If Lincoln was the senior producer, that meant he was Octavia's boss at the news station where she did field reporting. This was the first time he'd even heard the man's name mentioned, though, and from the way Octavia's eyes were casting nervously about, Bellamy doubted the omission had been entirely by coincidence.

In fact, Lincoln looked a tad nervous himself and Bellamy had to hold in a laugh. He wasn't going to let this go easily.

Then Clarke appeared out of thin air, unknowingly saving his sister from an extremely awkward encounter. "Did I hear that right? I have you to thank for all of this?" she asked Octavia and Lincoln. The two nodded, staying silent. Like everything that day, though, she took it in stride and reached out a hand to Octavia. "Clarke Griffin. I'm so grateful that you're doing this." She shook Lincoln's hand next. "I have to admit, when Bellamy first mentioned the idea, I wasn't sure how it could be pulled off so quickly. But then he said 'trust me,' and well…" At this Clarke rolled her eyes. "How could I not trust someone who had just saved my life?"

Lincoln's eyes widened at what Clarke had just said and in a split second wrapped his hands around Octavia's shoulders, effectively preventing her from launching herself at Bellamy. "What?" Octavia hissed, narrowing her eyes at her brother and trying to wriggle free from Lincoln's grip. "You said it was just a false alarm, that nothing had happened!"

Bellamy groaned and shot a look of annoyance at Clarke. Not looking the least bit sorry, though, Clarke grinned in amusement. "Hey, Lincoln was it? How about I show you where we can set the equipment up and we can let the Blake siblings hash this out themselves."

Hesitating, Lincoln leaned over and whispered something into Octavia's ear. Whatever he had said, Octavia relaxed from her fighting stance and Lincoln finally let go, dismissing Clarke's offers to carry some of his bags and eventually relenting to let her carry the smallest one.

As they walked away, Bellamy watched the exchange with a smile. Clarke was really something else.

"So… Clarke Griffin?" Octavia's voice was mocking.

Bellamy tried not to react, but Octavia must have seen something on his face because she suddenly shouted, "Oh my gosh! You like her!"

Glancing around to make sure no one had overheard, Bellamy leaned in towards his sister. "Octavia keep your voice down." As an after thought he remembered to add, "And that's ridiculous."

Thankfully Octavia returned her voice returned to normal levels, saying,"What's ridiculous is this puppy dog look you get when you look at her. Geez, you fall fast. It's been what, a whole _day_?"

Choosing the route of denial, Bellamy turned the conversation around. "Right, and when were you going to tell me about you and Mr. I'm twice your age?" It was slightly an exaggeration, but Bellamy was a little miffed that it seemed his sister had been keeping secrets from him.

Octavia huffed. " _Eventually..._ and that's off topic mister. No wonder you saved her life, you're in love with her." She said that last part in a sing-songy voice before her face twisted into anger. "Oh… and 'saved her life'? What the _heck_ Bellamy? What happened?"

"It's just part of my job," Bellamy replied.

"Yeah, but I'm your sister!" Octavia said, outraged. "Besides, how did they keep it out of the press? I work for a new station after all, and we there hasn't been anything about this today."

Bellamy just shrugged. "I think they're trying to keep it under wraps right now."

He could see the gears turning in his sister's head as her eyes widened. "Do you think I could get an exclusive?"

Although he was surprised at how quickly she had moved on from the shooting and Bellamy's almost-death, he was just glad Octavia had moved onto an easier topic. "I'll see what I can do."

Octavia started heading to where Lincoln was, giving him a rough punch to the shoulder as she passed. "Thanks, bro."

Before she got too far, though, Bellamy called out to her. "Hey, Octavia!"

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Yeah?"

He pointed to Lincoln and mouthed. "We're going to talk about this later."

Her only was response was a pointed look at Clarke as she stuck her tongue out at him.

Bellamy sighed and then walked over to where Clarke was standing at the podium, going over her notes.

She looked up when he came over, and for a moment, her face was still scrunched up in concentration from practicing her speech. It was cute.

Then seeing who it was, her face relaxed and lit up in excitement. The next thing he knew, Clarke had surprised him with a hug. When she pulled back, she looked surprised herself at what she had just done, but quickly smiled. "Sorry, I'm just really excited and nervous. I mean, we were getting some press before, but now? This is going to be so great for the foundation. You have no idea…" She paused her rambling and breathed out.

Bellamy shook his head and jabbed a thumb in his sister's direction, uncomfortable at the undeserved praise. "It's all Octavia's doing."

"No," Clarke insisted, not letting him off the hook that easy, and Octavia came over just in time to hear her let out an emotion-filled, "Thank you, Bellamy."

Even as Octavia was doing a sound check, she managed to do a not-so-subtle nod towards Clarke, who had gone back to her notes. Bellamy didn't even have time to mouth the word "don't" however, before his sister did something incredibly stupid. "Hey Clarke, do you want to come to our weekly dinner? Bellamy wanted to get to know Lincoln better and it would be sort of awkward with just the three of us."

Silently, Bellamy sucked in a breath, barely having a second to register what Octavia had just done while simultaneously waiting for Clarke to turn down the offer. Instead, she looked slightly amused at Octavia's forwardness and glanced over at Bellamy. "As long it's okay with your brother."

Momentarily distracted by the fact that she hadn't given an outright no, Bellamy didn't realize that they were waiting for him to speak. "Oh, uh, no. I wouldn't… I don't..." he stuttered, before finally gaining control of his voice. "I mean, if you don't mind having to see more two more times." At her confused look he said, "Drinks with Raven and Wick, and then this." Realization dawned on her and he smiled. "So, I mean, if you don't mind, that sounds great."

"Great," Clarke echoed back, eyes bright. "It's a date."

That time Bellamy had no problem responding, giving a cheeky grin. "Whatever you say, Princess."

* * *

 **It's finally finished! Thanks to everyone who read this all the way back in 2015 when I first started, and to those who are just now reading this for the first time.**

 **Let me know what you think! I always appreciate feedback and geeking out over The 100 with other fellow Bellarke fans. (And even if you're not Bellarke fans, that's okay too. I still love you).**

 _ **Edit: Just to clarify, this is the last planned chapter for "That's All I Ask Princess." It was intended as a one-shot and grew into something six times as large. Still, this was always going to be a story that took place over the course of a day. Nothing more. Sorry to disappoint any of you hoping for something else.**_

 _ **I MAY be persuaded to write something else in this universe in the future... but I can't guarantee anything.**_


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